My Brother's Keeper
by XxWanderlustxX
Summary: Dean had angels, Sam had demons, but what if Adam wasn't a perfectly normal apple-pie life kind of boy, either? Pre-Series. Adam-centric. OCs.
1. In the Darkness Waits

**My Brother's Keeper**

**By Wanderlust Ethereal**

**Summary**: Dean had angels, Sam had demons, but what if Adam wasn't a perfectly normal apple-pie life kind of boy, either? Adam-centric. OCs.

**Disclaimer**: If this was mine, Adam would be loved and pampered, Gabriel would be alive and killing people for shits and giggles, and Crowley, King of the Crossroads, would meet a real-life Aziraphale, have an Arrangement, fall madly in love, and find a way to have creepy little fledgelings that look like blonde Crowleys that wear tartan sweater-vests with dark shades, and like to go and bug their aunt Mikey and uncle Luci by reading misprinted bibles aloud, complete with hissing sounds. My mind is messed up. I know.

**A/N**: I've been wanting to do this for sooo long! I mean, I love Adam, he just doesn't get enough love. Heck, he doesn't get enough life, or importance, or even any freaking plot! He's just the guy that keeps getting revived and killed in horrible and demented ways. And I'm such a sucker for characters with potential…

So this is me, giving him life, love and plot. Or trying to. But it's like this fic is jinxed! (I wonder why I'm surprised, considering I renamed Jet's story _Jinxed_ because everytime I tried to do it something gets in the way and stops me) Anyhoo, I was going to do this thing a year ago, except after typing a lot of chapters, my computer reset and I lost nearly half of what I wrote! And then, only a few months later, my computer broke and everything, not just this fic, but _everything_ I was working on – LOST! I'm trying to work on this again, hopefully no plagues will assault me this time…

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: In the Darkness Waits<strong>

It starts when Adam is three – _although to tell the truth it starts long before that, before him, and it has been the same with many others through the years and months and days_ – but for Adam it begins that night, almost a day after his third birthday, when mom has turned off the light, and Adam is laying down on his bed in the child's bedroom that used to belong to his uncle – _Uncle Declan, he was a marine, and they sent him off overseas to fight the terrorists, but he's not coming back anymore, they said_ – in his grandparent's house in Minnesota.

Adam can't sleep so he gazes at his nightlight and imagines that the shadows make shapes like the animals on his picture books.

He shouldn't be awake, but he is, and that's why he hears it when the twigs scratch at the window even though they shouldn't be near enough to do that, why he jumps when he hears the click of the lock unlatching, why he looks up when the hinges squeal _softly, oh so softly_ as the window eases open and the night breeze gusts into the room sending the curtains billowing and the chill night air stinging Adam's face and the back of his little hands because they're not under the covers.

And Adam is three, and he's terrified and he's curious and he pulls back his little hands and hides them under the blankets when he pulls it up to his nose, until he's all hidden and covered but for his wide blue eyes, staring out at the open window that shouldn't be open at all because mommy locked it before she kissed him goodnight.

The three year old waits a beat, and another, and _listens, listens, listens_, and he can _hear _it. There's something on the ledge, something shuffling and dark and it's _climbing, climbing _up into his window…

Then there's a hiss, and a muffled thud, a cuss word that Adam can't repeat because mommy will be mad at him, and the shuffling is gone.

There's a dark shape outside Adam's window, and pale, so pale hands, long and thin are on the sill and the window is being pulled closed, and Adam hears the click of a latch that nobody should be able to open and close from outside, but they already have.

And Adam is _scaredsoscared _because the dark thing is still there, standing outside his window but he can't scream, can't call for mommy, because he's afraid that _it _will hear him first.

It stands there for an eternity and a half, stands until his eyelids droop and he stifles a yawn and before he knows it, he's fast asleep, but the dark figure still stands outside his window, unmoving, waiting maybe, but Adam is long gone and past caring.

There's a sigh and a chuckle, and a breeze ruffles Adam's hair even though all the windows are closed.

In his bed, Adam sleeps. And his dreams are filled with pale fingers and shadowy black figures with blank black eyes standing in the distance.

* * *

><p>Chapter One DONE! Tell me what you think? ^^<p> 


	2. The Porcelain Girl

**My Brother's Keeper**

**By Wanderlust Ethereal**

**Summary**: Dean had angels, Sam had demons, but what if Adam wasn't a perfectly normal apple-pie life kind of boy, either? Adam-centric. OCs.

**A/N:** Soo… thanks to the review I got from SourSugarQuills, and the alert from Ruthiee (sorry, I have no idea why every time I write your name and save it, it gets reduced to .o, it's insane, I don't know what's wrong) , here's the next chapter! Some OC action here. Although, to tell the truth, I'm not entirely sure how my plan for Adam getting lost in the department store mixed up with my plan for Adam gets bullied… it sort of, just happened? Well, now I've got to make something up for the chapters I'm now missing plans for… sigh. Enjoy!

Adam is seven, Kate Milligan makes a veeery short appearance.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: The Porcelain Girl<strong>

Adam is panicking, he knows. He's never been this terrified before.

But then again, he's only seven, and he's probably never been in a situation as scary as this.

Frantically, he looks around, stifling sobs because – _mommy, where was mommy?_ – there were so many, many people and it was such a big, big place for a seven year old boy. The blonde sniffles, tugging at the edge of his dark green jumper fearfully. The department store was huge, so many people and so many places, and where was his mommy?

"Hey, looka' this. Ya lost kid?" laughs an unpleasant voice, and Adam looks up, startled. Eyeing the group of older boys approaching him warily. They're all bigger and taller than Adam, and he is, quite frankly, terrified. He nods nervously, mouth clamping shut, and the group bursts into laughter.

Adam doesn't like them, they look scary and unpleasant, they're laughing at him, and Adam just wants his mom to find him and make everything better. Because Adam knows they're bullies and he's never had to deal with bullies at school, because he's average and likeable and never the one to stand out of a crowd and draw attention, but now he does and Adam is small and scrawny and lost in a world where grown-ups and older kids roam and Adam is the odd one out.

He's too easy a picking.

Adam edges back, but there are already two of them behind him and they shove Adam forward, into the circle, and they're in an alcove near the restrooms and nobody notices them. Adam knows he's in a bad situation, and he wants to run, to get away, he wishes that he didn't go to the store with Kate in the first place, but right now, there's no way out.

"Ooh, is the little baby _scared_?" taunts the first one, the leader, and the others echo him and laugh. It stings Adam like a slap to the face, because he _is _scared. But it's not fair, they can't use that against him because they don't even know him, and he doesn't deserve to get bullied because he's never done anything wrong to them.

The circle gets smaller and someone shoves Adam, but Adam isn't terrified anymore, he's angry and he wants to cry and he _doesn't deserve this_, so he shoves back and glares, even though they're bigger and taller than him. It doesn't matter, because they can't do that.

"Go find someone else to bother!" he yells, and it comes out squeaky and not quite as effective as Adam wants it to be.

At first they're surprised, and then they're angry. Adam knows he's in trouble when the two behind him grab his arms and the leader pulls an arm back to strike.

Adam flinches – but the blow never comes.

* * *

><p>She's a small thing, Adam thinks, when he opens his eyes, smaller than him and the dress she's wearing is mauve and frilly and looks like a prop from a costume store. She looks completely out of place, but that's not the oddest thing.<p>

She's holding back the bully's hand.

Adam is safe, for the moment. Then she lets go, and the bully steps back, surprised, before he turns on her and the circle is now around Adam and the little girl.

"Jus' who the hell are _you_?" growls the leader "Ya think ya can just barge in, stupid kid… Jus' cause you're a girl, don't think I'll hold back!"

"But I _definitely_ will." says the girl cockily, her voice is lilting and rich, accent like the British people Adam sees in the soap operas his mom watches sometimes. "Prob'ly not even enough for a warm-up, you lot"

She's tiny and delicate-looking, like the creepy porcelain dolls Adam sees in the ghost movies that sometimes come up on cable, with black hair held back by a bright blue ribbon and blank black eyes _– they're dark, so dark that he can't tell her pupils from her irises_ – too big for her face. Adam thinks she looks _wrong_.

The girl twirls around a black umbrella, all lace and ribbons and just her size, before she flashes them a brilliant grin. It doesn't reach her eyes.

Adam shudders.

The group of bullies hesitates for a minute, before the leader charges in with a roar, fists swinging. And it happens so fast that Adam knows that if he had blinked then he would have missed it. The girl ducks under flailing fists – _she's far more graceful than any little girl has any right to be and Adam thinks she's wrong, so wrong, unnatural_ – and the umbrella comes swinging, it hits the back of the bully's legs and sends him toppling, dazed, to the ground.

The others watch her, wide-eyed then wary, but they charge too, 'she's just a girl' they think.

But she's not just a girl, Adam thinks, because she dances past the three that charge her and the umbrella is swinging and slashing, and then there are four groaning on the ground.

The two holding Adam's arms share a look, and the girl raises an eyebrow at them, unimpressed, before stepping forward, one hand on the umbrella.

They run. All of them, because the little girl is crazy and impossible. And the umbrella is unexpectedly painful for something that ought to be blunt and padded.

But Adam is too slow, so it's just him and the girl standing. And Adam is nervous, because the little girl is _wrongwrongwrong_ and he's scared.

"You're Adam." says the girl, head cocking to the side. It's a statement, not a question, and Adam bites his lip.

"Yeah, that's me, how'd you know?" asks the blonde.

"I make it a point to know." replies the girl. And she laughs and shakes her head, silky black curls flying. "Maybe next time then."

Adam doesn't know when next time is, or why there's a next time. He doesn't know who the scary girl with the blank black eyes and porcelain skin is or how she knows his name. Adam wants to ask but the girl turns around and she's leaving and Adam's half-worried that she'll hit him with her umbrella if he follows her, so he stares after her as she picks her way through the crowd…

…and walks up to a red-haired man in a white doctor's coat.

Adam wonders if that's her dad and watches enviously. He doesn't know his dad. He doesn't think he has one.

Then the red-haired man looks up at Adam and Adam's breath catches in his throat because the man's gaze is cold and ice-blue and piercing, and Adam feels like the man is looking into his very soul.

And then the man smiles, and it's a small thing, barely a turn of the lips, but its _warmth _and _love_ and the eyes aren't piercing but friendly and vast like the summer sky. Adam feels safe. Because the man is _good, _he can feel it, just like he can feel that the porcelain girl is _darkscaryterrible_.

"Adam!" and then Kate is there and Adam is startled and happy and crying and thinking _MomMomMom!_ And he's gonna be safe and go home, and it's _safelovegoodsafe_. Kate is hugging him and laughing and crying and scolding him that he should never, ever do anything like that again because she was so, so worried, and she'd never be able to bear it if anything happened to her little angel.

When Adam looks back, the red-haired man and the porcelain girl are gone.

* * *

><p>That night, Adam dreams that he's on his bed, and the bullies are crawling, shuffling on the ledge outside his window that shouldn't be open but is, and the porcelain girl stands there, just outside his window, staring at him with blank black eyes, before she hits the bullies with her umbrella and they topple out of sight, and the red-haired man in the doctor's coat sits at the edge of his bed and tucks him in, giving him a goodnight kiss on the forehead, just like his mom does.<p>

When Adam wakes up, he doesn't remember his dream, but he tells his mom about the red-haired man and the porcelain girl.

Adam doesn't know it, but years later, when he thinks back on that day, he'll remember the expression on his mother's face:

Terror.

* * *

><p>Yaaay! That's chapter two! Read and review? Please?<p> 


	3. Perfect Strangers

**My Brother's Keeper**

**By Wanderlust Ethereal**

**Summary**: Dean had angels, Sam had demons, but what if Adam wasn't a perfectly normal apple-pie life kind of boy, either? Adam-centric. OCs.

**A/N:**I got three reviews last chapter! I'm haaapppy... Thanks to Kattastic999(who reviewed and faved and alerted, wow, thanks for all the support), Fiito (for the review and alert) Lynne, justbecause-143 and IcyAri. It's nice to know people actually read this. :)

Anyhow, new chapter! It's longer than any of my previous ones (2000+ words, _I _can't believe it) but I sort of got carried away writing it.

Adam is nine, Kate has another cameo, and the OCs get a good few paragraphs for themselves. I hope I didn't reveal too much, though. I tried to make their conversation as obscure and confusing as I could... lol...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Perfect Strangers<strong>

Janet is late.

Adam is nine and he's sitting on one of the swings in the playground. It's March of 1999, and the leaves are bright and green on the trees, flowers blooming in their little pots sitting by the sidewalk. The children had made a game of leaping over the pots, like an obstacle course, and Adam had been right there with them, leaping and running. But that was an hour ago, and the children have all been picked up by their parents. The school is all empty now.

All except Adam, and even though it's fun to finally get on the swing as many times as he likes, or slide as much as he wants, it's boring now and Adam just wants to get home.

But Janet is late. She shouldn't be, because mom is paying her to pick Adam up after school and watch over him at the house while Kate is working the afternoon shift at the hospital. She shouldn't be late, because Adam is bored, and kind of hungry and mom will be mad at him if he walks home on his own because that's what happened the last time he went back without Janet.

The nine year old frowns as he plays with the ends of his green and yellow scarf, wondering where Janet has gone. It's not like her to be this late. Maybe she forgot? Adam nibbles on his lip nervously; Janet always liked those afternoon soap operas, what if she saw one and forgot she was supposed to pick Adam up? Mom always said Adam forgot things when the TV was on, maybe Janet was like that too? What if Adam had to wait for her until night time? The blonde glances at the empty school anxiously. Trixie Pacard said there were monsters in the school that came out at night, said that if you stayed in the classroom after hours, they'd jump out from the space behind the blackboard and gobble you up…

Adam jumps as something white flashes at the corner of his eye, and as he turns to look, there is something, _something_ coming closer, flickering and pale, but it's _there_ and it's coming towards Adam, closer and closer and _closer_. Adam stands up, his skin prickling into goosebumps as he scrambles backwards, eyes wide and terrified. It's coming for him, he knows it. It's coming for him…

"You alright there, kid?" says a voice and there's a pale hand on his shoulder. Adam jumps nearly a foot in the air, and then he's crying, crying about monsters and Trixie and _please, please don't eat him, he isn't tasty!_

"Hey, hey, sshh! I'm not going to eat you!" says the voice awkwardly, and when Adam looks up, the pale girl has her hands held up, palms out, in a gesture of surrender. She's taller than him, and wearing a black trenchcoat and a bright red scarf that'd be better suited for cold weather. Adam thinks she might be sixteen or seventeen, and her black hair is cut almost boyish short and makes a striking contrast with her pale face and blank black eyes.

Adam looks at her dubiously, before turning back to look at the white thing. It's gone.

The girl flashes him a bright grin that's all teeth. "I doubt you'd taste very good anyway. I'd pick ice cream over little boy any day, mind you."

"I'm not little!" says Adam, frowning, Janet and monsters forgotten "I'm gonna be ten in September _and _I'm second tallest in my class!"

The girl laughs and leans on the metal bar holding up the swing.

"Are you?" she asks, and her accent is British, voice lilting and rich. Adam thinks it's nice to listen to. But he feels wary. She's… _odd_. He thinks, though he can't quite put his finger on _why_. There's just something _wrong_ with her. She's scary, he thinks, but doesn't say.

She cocks her head to the side. And Adam feels as if he's seen that gesture, seen her before. But try as he might, he can't remember where or when. He frowns at the girl.

"I guess you aren't very little anymore." she tells him with a pensive frown, and then she grins brightly. "Well, doesn't matter! Thing for another time… Just _what_ are you doing _here?_ School's out, ain't it? Thought J-Jenny? Jane? What's her name, started with a J…" she trails off "ANYWAY! Doesn't really matter what her name is, does it? Why isn't she here, again?"

Adam looks startled, then bites his lip. He doesn't like the girl… but she seems to know him, maybe she can help him get home?

"I dunno…" he tells her reluctantly, "Do you know my mom?"

"Not personally."

"Oh."

And Adam deflates and worries, about Janet, about his mom, about monsters.

"But I _could_ get you to her," says the girl offhandedly. Adam looks up, suddenly hopeful. The girl is flicking non-existent dirt off her fingernails and looking decidedly bored, then she gives Adam a measuring look, "for a price…"

Adam deflates again. He doesn't have any money. He has a half-eaten bologna sandwich and a roll of twine, and his bag, which has his school things. He tells the girl this, and she wrinkles her nose at the mention of bologna.

"I don't like bologna," says the girl with a disdainful sniff, "and twine isn't nearly as interesting as it was two hundred years ago. Do you have magic markers? I like those."

No, Adam does not have magic markers. But he has a box of crayons and two pencils.

"No, thank you, I don't do crayons."

There's a moment of silence, while Adam tries to think up of payment and the girl just stands there, wrinkling her nose. Possibly detesting bologna in her mind. The girl is starting to look bored, and he's worried she'll leave without helping him.

"Well, what would _you_ like me to do?" asks the almost-nine-year-old desperately.

At that she grins like the cat that got the cream. And Adam feels _very, very _worried.

* * *

><p>Adam whimpers as the pain gets too much and across from him, the girl laughs, before licking away a stray drop from her ice cream.<p>

"Told you not to eat it too fast!" she tells him, grinning brilliantly, and Adam pouts at her. Grimacing as the pain continues. The girl laughs again. "Fine. Stick your tongue to the roof of your mouth, my friend says it works."

Adam looks at her suspiciously before deciding it couldn't possibly hurt to try. It works. And soon Adam is messily scooping rocky road ice cream into his mouth again. It's delicious, and Adam doesn't know very much about ice cream, but he can tell that _this_ ice cream is _brilliant_. As far as ice cream goes.

The café that the girl has brought him to is a comfy-looking place, nestled in an alcove between two commercial buildings where Adam would have sworn, just a few days ago, there was nothing but an empty alley(but Adam isn't an expert, he doesn't know for sure). The café is small and homey, if rather… tacky-looking, with its floral pink tablecloths and frilly curtains. But the mismatched chairs are huge and soft, and the low light and bluesy music makes Adam want to curl up in a corner and sleep. If he wasn't so busy spooning down his ice cream. _Because, really, it's delicious. Probably the best Adam's ever tasted._

The girl has hers in a cone. It's her second one already.

"Um…" begins Adam, looking up from his bowl of chocolate awesomeness. "So, what are we doing here? Din't you say you were gonna talk to someone?"

"Yep." replies the girl, popping her lips at the p. "But he's not here. Yet."

So they wait. And Adam thinks they might wait for whoever it is forever, but just as he starts fidgeting in his seat, someone runs into the counter and the girl waves at him.

"Evan!" she greets cheerily, and the guy, _Evan_, gives them a disgruntled look before walking up to their table. Adam thinks Evan looks around eighteen, and his hair is a light blonde in dire need of a haircut, and falls in a messy fringe over his eyes.

Then, as if by magic, the unhappy look is gone and Evan is flashing them a confident smile.

"There's my favourite…" he falters when he sees Adam, "…customer. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Suddenly the girl stops smiling, and her face is serious. "We need to talk, Evan."

"You know, I get _really _worried whenever you start making that face. It usually means I'm about to get screwed. Big time. On your account."

But the girl is already standing up, and she orders another bowl of ice cream for Adam. Then she and Evan walk away, and their faces get really serious as they talk.

Adam eats his ice cream, and wonders how long it'll take before they're done and he can go home to his mom.

* * *

><p>When they leave the café, whose name <em>is, <em>apparently, The Café. Adam is full and his stomach is cold from all the ice cream. The girl is frowning, deep in thought, and she stays that way until they get to the hospital where Adam's mom works. Kate is surprised to see Adam, and it's only when everything is sorted out that she finds out that Janet had called in sick that morning, but it had gone to voicemail and Kate had forgotten to check that day.

Adam tells her about Trixie Pacard, and the flickering white thing, and the girl in the black coat that bought him ice cream and took him to the hospital. And Kate Milligan frowns and shakes her head, and thinks Adam has too much imagination.

But she's thankful, and that's why Kate looks for the girl that Adam is talking about, but she isn't anywhere that Kate looks.

* * *

><p>In a different part of the hospital, a pale girl in a black coat strolls into the doctor's office. Her face is pensive, lost in her thoughts, and the man behind the desk raises an eyebrow at her before tossing a chocolate bar unto the desk.<p>

She takes the chocolate, still chewing her lip, with her eyes focused on a problem she can't seem to solve. And proceeds to chew on it. The chocolate bar that is.

There's a moment of silence.

"I saw you bring in Adam Milligan." states the man noncommittally.

"I did." she agrees, equally noncommittal.

"That's twice now you've interfered." a scowl, he's agitated. He's _worried_.

"Thrice." she corrects through a mouthful of chocolate. The man shoots her a glare.

"You know you can't keep getting involved. Getting _attached._"

At that, the girl looks at him with an affronted expression. As if the mere idea was abhorrent. "Was there a role reversal without me knowing? You _do_ know who you're talking to, right?"

The man snorts, then leans back on his chair, brushing strands of brilliant scarlet away from his face. "How the heck would I not? But that isn't the problem with you! Heck, the kid could die right now and you wouldn't even blink. The problem is that _you _get interested, and then, you get attached, and then you do stupid things that get people in a ton of trouble they don't need, just because you want to see what happens next"

He spits out the last part with a look of disgust. And the girl gives him a small smirk before her face becomes serious again.

"I talked to Evan."

"You're changing the subject—"

"March 5, 2009."

Silence. Before the doctor speaks again, and his voice is dangerously low.

"_What?_"

The girl gives him a grim smile.

"Evan. Almost reaped the kid this afternoon. That is, until I dropped by and when he double-checked his Book, turns out the files got messed up and he was ten years too early," The girl gives a dark chuckle. "Good thing I showed when I did. I don't think he would have realized the mistake until it was too late."

"He… wait… _what?_"

"You're the height of coherence, you know that?"

"Shut up. Are you… are you telling me that kid only has ten years left to live?"

"Bravo, Koryuu, even I couldn't have figured that one out."

The red-haired man shoots her a glare, to which she replies by rolling her eyes.

"He's the last. You know," she begins softly "If there's any time to get attached. Then it's now."

"When he's dying?"

"Everybody's dying. Proven fact of life. Well, except for special exceptions. Like you. Mostly you."

"And who's fault was _that_, again?"

The girl throws her head back with a laugh, and the man just glares, but the twitch of his lips gives him away.

"I'm serious though." She states "You should give it a shot. Adam there, he's interesting, if you'll just give him a chance."

"Jet..."

"He needs it. _You_ need it. Damn the consequences, Koryuu! Let's have some fun."

* * *

><p>Aaand... go OCs! Chapter three is done! Read, review, comment, or just drop a line and tell me what you think. I'd really appreciate it.<p> 


	4. Nameless Presents

**My Brother's Keeper**

**By Wanderlust Ethereal**

**Summary**: Dean had angels, Sam had demons, but what if Adam wasn't a perfectly normal apple-pie life kind of boy, either? Adam-centric. OCs.

**A/N: **Sooo… this is not what I planned to post for chapter four. But Chapter four was killing me (I'm still not finished, it's harder than I thought it would be) and I'd already written this one a couple of weeks ago and you people were so nice and supportive and I really, really wanted to post something… So. Well. Here's the stand-in for Chapter Four. I hope you like it.

Aaand… thanks for the reviews, SourSugarQuills and kattastic999. Did you know that I saw your reviews at New Year's, just before twelve, and I was like 'Aw, this people are wonderful!' New Year started out extra awesome thanks to you. And thanks to glistening moon who reviewed and alerted, and Gothic Barbarian for the alert. You guys totally made my day.

Adam goes from thirteen to fifteen for this one, some Kate, some John (OhgawdIhopeIportrayhimokay). The OCs don't get any screentime, though…

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Nameless Presents<strong>

For as long as Adam can remember, there have always been two extra presents. For Christmas, for his birthday, even for Halloween and Easter.

Always two extra presents. Always for him. Always without a sender.

When he was younger, he used to think they were from Santa, but as he grew up, he realized that 1) Santa wouldn't send him anything for Halloween or Easter, and 2) Kate was always more than a little disgruntled when the topic of the presents came up.

Then Santa wasn't real anymore, and the mystery presents continued to come. By then Adam had realized that his mom was downright terrified of the presents that came from nowhere, that never had any senders, and that would always, always find them, no matter where they spent the occasion – _Adam remembers going to Milwaukee, or New York to visit Kate's cousins, or even the beach, but they always come for him._

Adam always liked the presents. They were always fun things, interesting things, things that Adam wanted but Kate could never buy on the salary of a single mother working as a nurse in the hospital.

Sometimes, Adam thought they might be from John. The enigmatic man that mom said was his father but rarely ever came around.

That was before John found out about the presents.

* * *

><p>Adam still remembers that day. It was his birthday, thirteenth, and John's with them to celebrate. John. <em>His dad<em>. _His _dad. His _dad. _And it should have been wonderful, and all sorts of brilliant, but it isn't.

Because John found out about the presents and Adam still remembers how terrified he'd been just then because he thought John had gone mad, and how he'd sobbed and protested when the man who was supposed to be his dad ripped the presents away, still in their wrappers, and covered them in salt and tossed them into the fire to burn.

Adam still remembers John's eyes, dark with anger and livid, how he shouted at Adam about being a fool and how he shouldn't accept things that he didn't know where from, how it was dangerous.

And Adam cried while Kate tried to calm _John_ down, because now he would always just be John to Adam, never dad, because Adam can't accept that his dad is this much of a disappointment. It's the first time it hits Adam, as in _really_ hits him, that life isn't all he wanted it to be.

That afternoon, John apologizes and takes Adam out to a baseball game and Adam goes, albeit grudgingly, and thinks about the two nameless presents he isn't allowed to accept anymore.

They keep coming anyway.

John isn't around to throw them every single time, but he's made his point on the matter clear, and Kate pales every time they come, and she puts them in the trash, because, apparently, she agrees with John, no matter how much Adam pleads with her. She's set on the matter, and Adam frowns and watches the two presents that have always been a constant of his life never make it to him again.

* * *

><p>It's a year and a half since then, Adam counts fourteen presents that have been carted off in to the dumpster – <em>Halloween, Christmas, Easter, Birthday, Halloween, Christmas – <em>when they stop coming.

To tell the truth, Adam's not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. He's half-hoping whoever sends them doesn't stop, that they don't think he's being ungrateful or anything – _because surely if they can figure out where he is and what he wants every Christmas, then they'll know if he's getting the presents they're giving? – _and half relieved, because it's such a waste for them to keep sending him presents he's not allowed to accept. It's better like this, right?

Easter comes and there aren't anymore gifts.

* * *

><p>When Adam's next birthday comes, fifteenth now, John drops by. He takes Adam to a baseball game, as usual, then buys him his first beer. And Adam and John have a drink, sitting on the hood of the Impala outside of the stadium and they talk about the weather, and sports and polite things that fathers and sons ought to talk about, like what Adam wants to do with himself when he grows up.<p>

"I want to be a doctor." says Adam, and he takes a swig and grimaces at the bitter taste flooding his mouth.

"You want to work in the hospital? Like your mom?" asks John, nodding contemplatively.

"No, like K—" Adam catches himself "Like Dr. Drake."

John frowns.

"Who's this doctor?" he asks gruffly, and Adam thinks that no, _no_ he doesn't want to tell John about Dr. Drake, he won't, can't tell John about the man he wishes was his father instead. And wouldn't that be just _poetic_?

"He used to work at the school clinic." says Adam offhandedly, "I think he's pretty cool."

And that's that. John doesn't ask anything more about Adam's doctor, and Adam is more than relieved.

It's only when John drops Adam off that Adam looks at the curb and realizes that there aren't any presents in the trash.

For a moment, he's actually disappointed. Then he shrugs and walks inside, leaving his mom to say her goodbye to John. He thinks they might be kissing, or some other lovey-dovey thing.

When he gets to the kitchen, he grabs a glass of water and washes away the bitter taste of beer from his mouth. He thinks he'll never like the taste. He listens as the rumble of the Impala's engine grow fainter as John drives away, to wherever it is he goes when he's not with Adam and Kate, and he hears the door open and close as Kate comes in. It's just him and mom again.

"I'll be upstairs, mom!" he calls, because he can't bear seeing her look so happy and so crushed at the same time. John's the love of her life, Adam knows, but he's leaving, he's _always _leaving, and Kate and Adam are always the ones left behind.

Adam closes the door to his room and tries not to slam it, Kate might hear, and then they'll have a row. Adam doesn't want that.

What Adam _does_ want is to flop into his bed, and go to sleep, because John is messed up, and Kate is hopelessly in love, and Adam is tired, and he doesn't like beer, and he doesn't like John, and there aren't any presents in the trash…

Adam jumps when he hears the crinkle of wrappers and rolls off the bed clutching his chest thinking – _Ow, that hurt! There's something on my bed, what the heck? – _And pulls off the covers.

There are two presents sitting innocently on his bed.

Adam can feel his jaw dropping. They must have been put there recently, because Kate always checks if the presents have come – _she looks in his closet and under his bed and even in the ledge under his window because the presents have been appearing in sneakier manners ever since she started throwing them out – _but she's missed them this time and they're on Adam's bed and Kate doesn't have any idea.

Adam steps back, towards the door, remembering John's warnings, and Kate's pale face and disgruntled expression, and the presents in the trash…

There's a single _click_ of the lock. And it's final.

Alone in his room, Adam Milligan grins. He's fifteen, and presents in brightly coloured wrappers are getting old, but it doesn't matter. And he doesn't care if he's kneeling by the bed with a silly smile bigger than anything, doesn't care if it's biggest he's smiled all day, doesn't care if he's ripping into the presents like a five year old on his first Christmas.

_He doesn't care. _Because the presents are there, and Adam's just happy that somewhere out there, there's someone that isn't too messed up or too hopeless or too sick and tired of all this crap to give him birthday presents like he's just another little kid and not fifteen watching the rose-tinted glass fall to pieces around him.

It feels good.

Adam gets headphones, and a box of brownies from the first gift. And a brand new laptop from the next. And he knows that his mom can't know, so he hides the headphones in a shoebox. The brownies go in his bedside drawer while the laptop finds space under a medical trivia book in his desk. Then Adam tosses the wrappers into his school bag, and plans to dispose of them before class on Monday.

He doesn't notice the birthday card that falls out of the wrappers and slips under his bed.

If he had, he might have figured it all out a lot sooner.

* * *

><p>And done. Next Chapter will be up as soon as I can finish it, which I hope will be soon, but it's killing me, it really is. I know what to do, but the feel just <em>isn't<em> _there_...

Well, thanks for reading, everyone! :) Tell me what you think? I'd love to hear it, specially if you have any nifty advice about how to get over semi-writer's block...? -looks hopeful-


	5. Appointment at the Morgue

**My Brother's Keeper**

**By Wanderlust Ethereal**

**Summary**: Dean had angels, Sam had demons, but what if Adam wasn't a perfectly normal apple-pie life kind of boy, either? Adam-centric. OCs.

**A/N:**I DID IT! XD! Chapter fiiiiiiiveee! And I'm coffee-high, so if parts of this seem crack-ish, it's because of the coffee. I wrote half of it with a normal mindset a few days ago and the other half giggling like a maniac and squealing about how awesome Dream of the Endless is. Oh Morpheus...

BTW, thank you for your review and alert Lily-Rose Petals, and thanks for reviewing again, Kattastic999! XD! and Colin: that'll be revealed, eventually.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five: Appointment at the Morgue<strong>

**(Part One of Four)**

_10:52 pm_

In the confusion – the high, keening wails of sirens, _police, ambulance, _interspersed with murmurs from the crowd and flashes of cameras hoping to get some last-minute shots – nobody notices the man.

They might have, if it had been a quieter time. He's the kind of man that draws the eye. Bright scarlet hair and icy blue eyes, a white doctor's coat. He's not the kind to blend in easily in a crowd.

But he does. The chaos hides him. Just another face in a sea of faces, shifting and changing in the night, the fire casting light on their expressions – horrified, and surprised and curious – but his expression is different.

The red-haired man is angry.

* * *

><p><em>11:01 pm<em>

Her vision is blurry. Blurred scarlets and blacks, and the heavy scent of smoke in the air. One of the paramedics gave her a cup of water, trying to make her calm down.

Kate tries, she really does. But her heart is still beating too fast, her fingers shaking as she holds the plastic cup and the tears simply won't stop. The sobs won't stop coming, _can't_ stop, not when her entire life is burning in front of her. Her parent's house is going up in flames, taking with it everything that Kate had ever known, the days spent with her brother, the smiles, the laughs, the tears, her father's old uniform from when he was the sheriff, her mother's wedding dress kept in her closet. Everything is burning.

And Adam. Adam had been in there, sleeping soundly in his room. And Kate had been at work.

It brings up another round of sobs. It's all there, every second of it so close and so painful that she can almost feel the plastic still pressed against her face as she answered that one call, when they told her.

_The house was on fire_.

Still remembers the horror, the hysterics. Hitching a ride on the ambulance on its way to her house.

_Adam's in there! My son is still in there!_

Can still feel the solid arms pulling her back because the fire was too big, too powerful. Nobody could get in.

_Somebody please save him. Adam was trapped in there!_

And Kate can still hear it, in her head, the crash of glass breaking and wood splintering, the screams from the crowd, that horrible, horrible smell of burning flesh and that single, sickening thud of the body, still burning, hitting the ground. Can feel her world turning, turning upside down in a burst of flames, the _fear_…

Kate Milligan doesn't know the word for what she's feeling. She doesn't know how to describe it. All she can do is feel.

It makes her cry.

* * *

><p><em>1:16 am<em>

The morgue is quiet when the red-haired man enters it. His steps echo lightly in the empty halls and the lone security guard doesn't so much as glance up when the man passes him, too absorbed in tonight's ball game. It's just another doctor, as far as he's concerned.

The doctor has with him a canvas messenger bag, it's a bit weathered, a bit old, but it's been through a lot with him. And if anyone had bothered to check, they would have been very, very surprised at its contents.

Nobody checks, the man keeps going, the door to the mortuary isn't locked.

He stops, just for a second, at the doorway and puzzles out which one it is. There are many compartments in the room, some are occupied, some are not, but only one of them has the person he's looking for, and he really, truly doesn't want to disturb anyone else.

With a sigh, half exasperated and half resigned, he begins to knock – one, two, three soft knocks on each compartment. They echo hollowly through the metal doors and he tries to quell the feeling of uneasiness. He must look like an idiot, he thinks, knocking on the dead. He has half the mind to just leave it be, but he has quite a bone to pick. Probably literally, now.

With another sigh, he keeps knocking. _One, two, three…_

* * *

><p><em>8:29 pm<em>

Adam looks up as the sound of knocking pulls his attention away from the steady hum of the microwave and his slowly rotating dinner. Kate has the night shift this time, so Adam's stuck making his own dinner and putting himself to bed. Not that he minds. He's two months away from twelve years old, for Chrissakes, he's old enough – at least, in his mind – to be taking care of himself.

That's what he told – _argued, bribed, pleaded_ – Kate. He _doesn't need _a sitter, anymore. And, he thinks, she probably doesn't need the expense of one, either.

Not to mention, Adam can cook a far more palatable meal than all of his previous sitters combined. The blonde shudders at the memory of burnt eggs, too-raw bacon, and one, particularly deplorable instance involving too many uncooked leafy greens. He was convinced she was trying to turn him into a rabbit. His mom just laughed. Then she proceeded to explain the concept of _vegetarians_.

"They _only _eat _leaves?_" cried a horrified Adam, who was imagining a world where people ate flowers, chewed on tree leaves, and avoided burgers and pizza. He couldn't.

Kate Milligan just shook her head fondly.

Adam blinks as the knocks continue, and he peers at the shadowy doorway, where there is most certainly nobody knocking. No, the knocks aren't coming from the door. They're coming from _upstairs. _Or more specifically, Adam's window.

The eleven year old grins. There's only one person that knocks on Adam's window.

* * *

><p><em>11:03 pm<em>

She doesn't expect the helping hand, when it comes.

His name is Doctor Llewellyn Drake, and Kate Milligan doesn't know him.

Well, yes, she's heard of him – and who _hasn't_? Windom isn't that big, really, so when a reasonably good-looking (if rather unfortunate with his name), rather intelligent (he's a doctor, after all, and a good one) single young man that doesn't talk about his past (just smiles politely) moves in, the gossip mill tends to go '_Whooo-eee' _– but she's never actually _met _him.

Sure, they pass each other in the halls, and she sees him in the cafeteria, and sometimes they'll nod at each other politely if they happen to meet in the elevator, the way colleagues that don't actually know each other but have seen the other everyday do, but she doesn't know him. Not really.

She's heard a lot about him, though. She can't help it; after all, he's prime gossiping material for the Windom Coalition of Chatty Nurses. Which Kate resolutely considers herself to _not _be a part of. She just happens to hear things, is all.

Alright, so maybe she's just a _little bit_ curious, so maybe she might've just asked a _teeny tiny _question here or there.

In any case, Drake – people stopped calling him Llew, or worse Llewellyn, after they realized it made his face twitch in a manner that usually indicated violent psychotic breakdowns, at least, with the psych patients. Drake had yet to raise a hand against anyone – being the new guy two years ago, had managed to invite the attention of what Kate dubbed the WCCN. Not that he knew it.

Kate still somewhat remembers him, two years back, when he was first introduced to the staff of Windom General Hospital. She remembers thinking he looked far too young to be a doctor, still does actually, she still remembers thinking there's no way someone that pretty has a degree. Because if there's one adjective for Llewellyn Drake, it's pretty.

Not handsome, not boyish, but _pretty_. Like, if Doctor Drake had been a girl, Kate (and possibly many other nurses) would've been downright jealous.

But he isn't a girl. He does, unfortunately, look like jailbait for shady old men with fetishes for redheads. Kate tries really hard not to think about that when she passes him in the halls, as she thinks it would be very rude, not to mention insane, to burst out laughing for no apparent reason.

So, no. Kate doesn't know Doctor Llewellyn Drake. So it's a bit of a surprise when she looks up to find that he's standing there, looking awkward, but holding a cup of Starbucks out to her.

"It's Chai." he says, as if that explains everything "Should help you calm down, or something."

Kate wants to say she's fine, she doesn't need calming down, but her face is sticky with tears and the shakes just won't stop. She accepts the tea and murmurs a small thank you.

Drake doesn't leave, he just takes a seat beside her, and they don't talk. Kate sneaks a look at him and she finds a red curtain obscuring his face, and they just sit there, in front of the burning house.

"It'll be fine." it's so quiet that Kate nearly misses it, and for a second she's unsure if he's actually talking to her, but there's no one else he could be talking to. She looks at him, and his shoulders are hunched, tensed, and though his posture makes him look, if anything, smaller, Kate thinks he looks inexplicably older.

Abruptly, Drake turns to look at her and his eyes are hard and ice-blue, but strangely… reassuring.

"He'll be fine."

And somehow, Kate believes him. Adam will be fine.

* * *

><p><em>1:31 am<em>

The corpse isn't pretty when he finally finds it. Of course, after _that_, he'd seriously doubt anyone could even look human, much less pretty. He slides it out of the compartment and shakes his head, before opening his bag, and out of it he produces a box of takeout – Dumplings. He rather likes them – and a rather sizeable pile of chocolate.

The skin of the corpse is blackened, burnt so badly that it's hard to make out its features, clothes are singed and – the man winces, reading the autopsy – spine and about a dozen other bones broken, face crushed in. Near-impossible to identify. He wouldn't expect any less, after all, it did jump from the second floor of a raging inferno and straight into solid concrete. It's not a nice way to die.

But it isn't dead. Not really.

* * *

><p>...<p>

Now, let's see. If I did my job right, you lot should be going WTF is GOING ON? Consider this a story arc, I was itching for a concrete plot, anyway...

Review? Please?


	6. Ladybird, Ladybird

**My Brother's Keeper**

**By Wanderlust Ethereal**

**Summary: **Dean had angels, Sam had demons, but what if Adam wasn't a perfectly normal apple-pie life kind of boy, either? Adam-centric. OCs.

**A/N: **Ta-da! Chapter Six, everyone! Aren't you excited? I sure am, I'm HYPED! And no, that's definitely not all that coffee I just drank talking. No sir, it isn't. I think. _Laughs hysterically. _Oh my gawd, it's like liquid crack. I love coffee, I love coffee, I love coffeee... hahaha.

And I love you people! Thanks for reviewing again Kattastic999 and glistening moon, XD! Oh, and I forgot to thank kitty-krypt for faving last time, so I'll thank you now. I hope you all enjoy this one... :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six: Ladybird, Ladybird<strong>

**(Part Two of Four)**

It isn't the first time they've met, but it's never happened quite like this.

Adam is reading comics in the front porch and Kate is at the back, gardening – the sweltering heat of July having forced them out of the house – when the girl comes.

It's been nearly four months since that March afternoon that she bought Adam ice cream at the Café and dropped him off at the hospital, but he recognizes her instantly. Pale skin, short black hair and blank, black eyes. The only difference is that instead of a trenchcoat, she's wearing a black leather jacket that falls just past her knees and a grey t-shirt that says '**BAD KITTY**' in bold capitals (he wonders, just for a moment, if she doesn't feel hot, wearing leather in _July_.)

She's striding down the street, towards Adam, and the blonde stares as she waltzes in the porch like she owns the place, plops down purposefully beside him and proceeds to tell Adam something that will change the course of his life forever.

"My name is Jet Summers," states the girl, dark eyes trained on his blue ones, as if this was a matter of life and death, "and from today on, I'm your stalker."

* * *

><p>Adam wakes up to stifling darkness. <em>A dream.<em> And just for a second, he thinks that he's in his bed_, it must still be night time, he must've fallen asleep, is mom back yet?_

But the smell is wrong. It doesn't smell like his room. The air is dusty and stale, and the covers he's lying on are itchy, the pillow not quite the right size. Adam frowns and tries to get up…

_Clink-clank._

Adam blinks, surprised, and moves his arm again. Metal tugs at his wrist and Adam starts as he realizes that he's cuffed to the bed. Frantically, he moves his other arm, and, to his relief, it's free. He jerks his feet and the clink of metal accompanies the tug at his right leg.

It's too dark to see. Almost unnaturally dark. Definitely not his room, wherever he is. There are no windows.

_Panic._ Adam can feel the panic rising in his chest, he's trapped, somewhere, in the dark, and the feeling is choking him. Burrowing into his chest. Where is he? What's going on? Where's his mom? What _happened?_

It lasts for all of a minute before he gulps back the terror. Pushes it back. He can't panic. Not yet. _Deep breaths_. Panicking won't help him, won't make it any easier to figure out where he is or how he got here, or why he's cuffed, what happened, who, what, where, why—

_Stop!_ He takes another breath. Not yet. He can't panic. Can't allow it to overwhelm him. One question at a time. Yes, that's it. One at a time…

* * *

><p>"It's been a <em>day<em>. Haven't you found _anything_? _Joe!_"

With a sigh, Sheriff Joe Barton looks away from the pleading eyes of Kate Milligan, she's worried – _more like terrified_ – he understands that. After all, this is her son that's missing. But there haven't been any breakthroughs and he doesn't have anything to tell her. _And to top it all off…_

"I'm sorry, Kate." he answers wearily, "We're looking, I told you, the entire force is out there looking, but so far, nobody's found him. You know you'll be the first to know if anybody finds Adam."

Kate stifles a sob. _Adam_. What had happened to her baby?

That's when one of the younger officers pipes up. Probably trying to be helpful. "Sir, what about the note?"

Joe almost groans.

"What note?" asks Kate, looking from Joe to the officer.

"It's nothing, Kate, it's just something we found at the house, it's not even relevant—"

"This is my SON that's missing! _What note, Joe?"_

Joe fidgets in his seat, then tries not to. He's the sheriff, for goodness' sake, but Kate Milligan can be damn _scary_ when she's angry. And she's angry right now, angry and scared and waiting to lash out at the first thing that crosses her wrong.

"It was this silly, half-burnt note we found at the house, a nursery rhyme. The one about the ladybird." sighs the sheriff.

Kate blinks in confusion and the young officer – _Rick Mayhew_. Joe thinks that's his name – decides to pipe in again.

"It's this rhyme about the ladybird, ma'am, it goes something like this:

_Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home,_

_Your house is on fire and your children all gone,_

_All except one, and that's little Anne,_

_And she's crept under the frying pan."_

"Not relevant?" squeaks Kate shrilly, Joe winces. She's definitely mad, now. "How is that _not _relevant? That's just about everything that's happened! That's – that's –_Oh god, Adam…_" And then she bursts into tears.

Joe glares at Mayhew, this is _exactly_ why he's doesn't go around divulging evidence – and especially not while the family's in this state – not that the idiot understands. But then again, the kid's new, so Joe will let this one pass. Mayhew looks properly guilty, at least.

"W-what about the body, then?" asks the nurse, when she's finally calmed down. Although her eyes are still red-rimmed.

"Body?" _Damn. He was hoping she wouldn't remember that…_

"I'm not an idiot, Joe! The body, the one that jumped out of our house. It wasn't Adam. You said Adam wasn't in the house when the fire started. _So_? Who was it? Why were they there?"

"A-about that… er, Kate? The body, it… uh… it's gone."

The blond gapes at him.

"Gone?"

"Gone."

"Joe. _Bodies don't just walk out of the morgue_!"

This one did.

* * *

><p>"Bet you twenty she's tearing 'im a new one." teases a British-accented voice, and doctor Llewellyn Drake looks up to shoot the new arrival a glare. Jet just shrugs.<p>

It's been a day since the fire and Adam's disappearance, and Kate had asked him to accompany her to the police station today. Apparently, his random act of kindness the other night had convinced the nurse that they were 'friends'.

Jet thought it was hilarious. Especially considering the redhead's position when it came to what Jet had dubbed 'the Milligan Issue'.

"You shouldn't even be here, stupid." he growls at the pale girl, who just raises an eyebrow at him. "What if the police find you?"

It's pretty lame, as excuses go, but he's still mad at her, so _excuse him_ if he's rather she _shoved the fuck off_.

"Lame, Koryuu." drawls Jet, "They're looking for a burnt, broken and very dead body, and it's not as if they got around to ID-ing me. Do I look burnt, broken or dead to you?"

"Dead. If you keep this up."

She grins at him in response, unfazed by the threat. She never is. The doctor sighs.

"What happened at the Milligan's house?" he asks.

"I already told you."

"Tell me _again._" and this time the words are punctuated by an almost-feral growl.

"Fine. Okay. I went to visit Adam–"

"_After _I told you not to."

"_No. _You told me _you _didn't want to get involved. You never said anything about _me._ Anyway, I went to visit–"

"How long has this been going on?"

"Two years next Wednesday. Are you finished butting in yet?"

Koryuu's eyes narrow, but he nods at her to continue.

"I went to visit Adam…"

* * *

><p>"Come in!" he calls upstairs, and he's rewarded by the sound of the window unlatching, and light steps threading down the wooden stairs. "I'm in the kitchen!"<p>

"I heard." says his visitor, voice lilting and rich, and it's the grin that Adam sees first as she walks into the room. "Evening, pet!"

Her black hair is cut as short as ever, and her skin looks even paler under the kitchen lights, but he wouldn't mistake her for anyone else. It's been two years since he first met Jet Summers on that one March day when Janet had called in sick, and she hasn't changed one bit.

"M'not a pet!" he grumbles, turning back to his dinner. Jet laughs and ruffles his hair, much to the blonde's annoyance. "Stop that!"

"You love it." laughs the girl. And Adam might, just a little bit, secretly, but he won't tell Jet that. He still has his dignity to protect, after all.

"Where've you been? It's been _weeks!_"

To tell the truth, it's not so much that the last time Jet was around was three weeks ago – she _always _does that, just drops in and out like some sort of giant stray cat in a leather jacket, Adam's quite gotten used to it by now – as it is that Jet _was gone_. For longer than a week. During summer vacation. When Kate had the night shift.

In Adam's Jet-included world, such a thing was unheard of. Of course, he's only known her for two years, but _still_. Summer was for _fun_. And when Jet was around, fun included movie nights with popcorn, and arcade nights – which Adam really shouldn't be allowed to do, but Jet was an adult, or at least she had an adult ID, and that got them places even at eleven in the evening – and stargazing, and ice-cream eating contests at the Café, and staying up waay later than Kate would have allowed, fun was breaking all the rules, and knowing that _nobody ever has to know_...

* * *

><p>"Wait, wait!" interrupts Koryuu, waving at her to stop, "Concise version, Jet, you're in deep enough shit without you telling me every single rule you've broken. He's <em>eleven<em>, for goodness' sake, he doesn't know any better. You're a bad influence!"

At that, she rolls her eyes.

"_Well_, I've certainly never claimed otherwise! And if a certain _someone,_ wasn't being such an _arse_, then maybe you could've been the good influence to balance it out. But _noooo, _he's all _'we can't get involved, Jet', 'we'll end up screwing him up, Jet', 'I'm a pansy-arse, goody-two-shoes, Jet'."_

"**JET**"

"Whatever, fine. We watched a movie, he fell asleep on the couch, so I put him to bed."

"Then?"

"You _know _this! Then I left."

"Left where?"

A pause, the pale girl rolls her eyes again.

"I went to the club, okay? I danced, there was this seriously hot—"

"**JET**"

"Fine, fine, nothing about the hot Asian guy, we were leaving when the fire truck went past. And applying Murphy's law, I deduced it was probably headed for the Milligan's house, and voila, it _was. _I ditched Asian and went back. The house was on fire, and Adam wasn't in the crowd so I snuck in."

"And?"

"He _wasn't there_. I checked his room, the entire house, he was just gone. Then the stairs collapsed and there wasn't any other way out. I called you, then I jumped through the window – that _hurt, _by the way – and you know the rest. Unless, of course, you want me to recount playing dead and getting put in the morgue until you came to pick me up?"

Koryuu sighs, rubbing his face wearily.

"You _really _don't know where he is?"

"No. Koryuu. I really don't know where he is." Jet leans back, her face taking on a deceptively calm expression. "But I'm looking. And when I find whoever took him… Well, they better pray I _never_ find them."

* * *

><p>It only takes a few more minutes for Adam's eyes to adjust to the blackness and when they do, he has to quell another panic attack from coming. He's handcuffed to what looks like a hospital bed in the middle of a room that had no windows and only one door, the walls were bare and stained with something Adam <em>really <em>hopes isn't red – cue panic attack.

Calm. He _has _to stay calm.

The last thing he remembers is falling asleep in the couch while watching Scooby-Doo the movie. He vaguely remembers Jet bringing him upstairs and the faintest click as she left through the window then… dreamland.

_Well, that was helpful._

Adam tries not to roll his eyes at his own sarcasm. For one, it probably doesn't bode well for his mental health, and it's not going to get him out of his cuffs.

Thankfully, he has something that will.

* * *

><p>"What's that?" asks Adam and Jet flashes him one of those too-bright grins that tells him she's up to something.<p>

"This," she answers, waving the pouch in front of him, "Is the one thing you _never _leave home without!"

And with a flourish, she empties the pouch and presents Adam with a pile of items. The blonde frowns at them, confused.

"Screwdriver. Lockpicks. Matchbook. Rubber bands. Pen knife. Aaand – _don't forget_ – candy!"

Adam blinks up at her in bemusement, then at the contents of the pouch, then back at Jet who's beaming as proudly as a four-year-old that's just managed to tie her own shoes for the first time. There's a moment of silence. Then, the pale girl, finally realizing that Adam is _not _sharing her enthusiasm, decides to change tactics.

"How'd you like to learn how to pick a lock?"

* * *

><p>The familiar weight is still strapped to Adam's leg and it's with no small amount of relief that he reaches down and pulls the pouch out.<p>

He can get out of this. Handcuffs are _basic._

And maybe the chocolate makes him feel better. Just a bit.

But before he can start working on the locks, the door shifts and with a metallic squeal of protest grates open. Adam pushes the pouch under his pillow just in time before the light from the open doorway floods the room and Adam finds himself blinking blearily at the sunlight and the dark figure standing at the door.

Then he realizes _who_ it is, and his eyes widen in surprise.

"…Jet?"

* * *

><p>Dun Dun Duuun! Is Adam saved? Or is Jet actually the bad guy? To be continued Next Chapter! Muahahahaha!<p>

Reviews are love!


	7. Day One

**My Brother's Keeper**

**By Wanderlust Ethereal**

**Summary: **Dean had angels, Sam had demons, but what if Adam wasn't a perfectly normal apple-pie life kind of boy, either? .

**A/N: ** Okay... all I have to say is I'M SORRY! I know my erratic updating is absolutely inexcusable and I'm the scum of the earth and I'm still not entirely done, but Real Life attacked me! It's hijacked every waking moment and I've been forced into studying and cleaning and exams and all sorts of unimportant things that have nothing to do with this fanfic at all. So. Yeah. Forgive me? Please?

Anyhow, thank you to Kattastic999, Alexandra101 (for reviewing and alerting) and Lily Rose-Petals for reviewing! I hope you all enjoy this one, it's extra long to make up for the delay… and I was supposed to finish it this chappie, except it ended with the ice cream truck, instead, so there's still another chapter to this little arc…

Fixed some grammar errors in the previous chapters, because I'm the kind of person that types excitedly and then spazzes when she looks back and realizes she missed that one little punctuation mark.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Day One<strong>

**(Part Three of Four)**

Adam is eleven, almost twelve. He's figured out Santa Claus and he knows there are no monsters under the bed, no matter how much his mom warns against the dust bunnies mutating. He walks into darkened rooms with just the slightest hesitation. There's nothing there, after all. The closet only holds clothes. Old houses don't have ghosts peeking out under the curtains. He knows monsters aren't real.

But when Adam looks at Jet, standing there at the doorway with a sweet smile on her face. He knows. Every fiber of him just _knows._

This is a monster.

* * *

><p>"What are you doing?"<p>

Jet looks back and Koryuu crosses his arms belligerently, demanding an explanation. Behind him, the faint echoes of Kate Milligan's panic-induced motherly raging drift out of the otherwise idyllic sheriff's office.

"What I came here to do." She replies brightly before stuffing her hands in her pockets and waltzing off, whistling an aimless tune to match what appeared to be equally aimless steps.

Koryuu knows he's going to follow. He can't help it, this is _Jet_ and her ability to walk straight into first-class trouble has astounded him time and time again. Her ability to get _him _in trouble is even more astounding.

But he follows anyway. _Story of my life. _He thinks wryly.

"_What the hell are you doing?_" hisses Koryuu, blue eyes wide. _This is bad._

Jet gives him an innocent look, the kind that anyone that even remotely knows her can tell has absolutely no business being on her face, before turning back to the door. It's pretty old, painted gray to match the motif of the police station, but the hinges are well oiled, and the locks are disappointingly easy to pick. She gives it a slight shove, and the last tumblers click out of place; the door swings open with a small creak.

"What do you think I'm doing?" she replies flippantly, "I'm – no, wait – _we're _breaking into evidence."

For a moment, she's tempted to count how many seconds it'll take before he realizes his mouth is hanging open.

"No. We're not."

"Uh. _Y__eah._ We just _did._" And she gives a rather pointed look at the open doorway to emphasize.

It's not so much that Koryuu is dense, as it is that he is rather good at denial. Denial is his strong point. His cornerstone and foundation, upon which hangs his sanity. It's a rather tentative hold, but it's better than nothing, he thinks, better than Jet, at least.

"Jet!" cries the redhead, looking vaguely horrified, "You can't just break into evidence! And in the middle of the day! What happened to sneaking in at night?"

The girl looks at him strangely. "Dude, we're already here. Not to mention the '_we already did' _part. Door's open. Let's go. Just act like you know what you're doing."

"_No. _I don't know what I'm doing. What am I doing?"

"Look. _Fine_. You can just stand there and look pretty or whatever. Distract the police while I take a peek at what they got from the house."

"How am I supposed to…"

"Well, I don't know. Go flirt around, wink at the constables, I'm sure you'll think up of something."

"Officers, not constables, they don't call them that in the US." He corrects automatically, Jet rolls her eyes.

"Oh. Look. Gotta go! We're running out of time. Go practice those kissy faces!"

And with a wink and a grin, the door shuts behind her, leaving a disgruntled Koryuu standing around awkwardly.

Yes. Koryuu is good at denial. But Jet is the mistress, high duchess of steamrolling. How they've managed not to kill each other, permanently at least, is a mystery on par with what the glowy green stuff growing out of the milk carton is. The redhead sighs and resigns himself to a fate of crossing fingers hoping nobody asks what he's doing standing around outside the evidence locker.

"Drake!" the doctor jumps and turns just in time for Kate Milligan to grab his arm and herd him away from the door, going on near unintelligibly about her son, Adam, and the incompetence of small town police forces and the particulars of what exactly she wants Joe Barton to do with his protocol and his rear end and oh, how very rude of her to just keep him waiting, how would he like to have lunch at her house?

He barely has any time to murmur a small "Wha–? But I—" before she's out of the door, face in a semi-grieving frown, with her hand on his arm dragging him like he's some sort of overgrown child. He shoots a panicked glance back at the door, hoping that Jet will notice.

The door remains inscrutable.

* * *

><p>Adam was panicking a while ago, waking up to find yourself bound to a bed in an unfamiliar room tends to do that to a person. But now? Now Adam is <em><strong>PANICKING<strong>_. He's panicking in big, bold capital letters that run around in panicked circles around his brain. Panic is a state of being. Panic is crawling out of his chest and scrabbling over his skin like fire ants over a sugary pastry.

Panic doesn't even sound like a word anymore.

Jet is walking closer and her smile is almost sweet, almost kind. The kind of smile Adam's never seen on her face before. It's _wrong_. She's _wrong_. So wrong that it makes his skin crawl with every step she takes closer to him. So wrong that it feels like bees buzzing against his ears screaming '**WRONGWRONGWRONG**'. And all he wants to do is get away. As far away as possible.

"What's wrong, pet? S'just me." She asks in a voice so sickeningly sweet it makes Adam want to puke. He can't even muster a thought anymore, all he can think about is getting away, as far away as possible, the metal cuts into his wrist as he pulls, and pulls and pulls. _Don't go near me, don't touch me, you're wrongwrongwrongwrong..._

Jet moves closer, smile still in place, and Adam's not even thinking anymore, the panic makes everything fuzzy and the sudden yelp and hiss feels like something out of an old video clip. Adam blinks as Jet steps back, eyeing him warily, and he's not entirely sure why or what happened. She's holding her arm and glaring at him as if he's the foulest thing she's ever seen and Adam just watches in confusion as blood trickles between her fingers where she presses it to her arm.

Then he sees the pen knife in his hands and wonders how it got there. Except he thinks he knows already. The blood, dark droplets against the silver edge of the knife, tells him. Jet snarls like a wounded animal and retreats, out of the door and back into the daylight, and then Adam's shut back into the darkness with the knife in his hands.

When he cries, big, shuddering sobs, with the bloody knife cradled to his chest, he's not entirely sure whether it's from hopelessness or relief.

* * *

><p>The evidence is very nicely labelled for Jet's convenience. She goes through each box all written in Sheriff Barton's neat cursive, and arranged according to date(she wonders vaguely if the man's OCD is on par with Koryuu's, a feat she has yet to see anyone achieve. Speaking of the devil, where is Koryuu?). The latest item is a sealed box of hallucinogenic drugs from a drug bust this morning. The second latest being the Milligan house fire. She picks up the neat little cardboard box; and after a moment of hesitation, the hallucinogens as well, and tucks them both under her arm so that the Sheriff's neat script can't be seen and whistles a happy tune as she walks out of the station. Nobody notices her at all, just another person out of many.<p>

She even waves cheerily at one of the officers, a rather dumb-looking young man sitting at the front desk and acting like a kicked puppy. His name tag reads _Mayhew_. He gives her a small, distracted smile, and proceeds to forget he's ever seen her.

She pulls out a pair of shades and walks out into the sunshine, still whistling.

* * *

><p>"...shouldn't have left him at home..."<p>

Koryuu nods agreeably.

"...think he'll be fine? I wish they'd find him soon, I hope..."

It's been two hours.

"...my son's fine, he's just, he'll be back soon, won't he? They'll find..."

Koryuu thinks he might be in a domestic sort of nightmare. There's coffee, and some lunch, and the TV is on, photo albums of Adam's life are laid out on the table and Kate is sort-of, but not really, sobbing into his shoulder, while he tries to comfort her, and Not Be Rude but Still Find an Excuse to Get the Hell Out Of Here. The excuse department is closed at the moment, though, and the doctor is starting to become desperate. Where _is _Jet?

"...and he hasn't met his father..."

That makes Koryuu perk up. Adam's father? Jet's information on Adam – and damn if it's not creepy she even _has _information on him – his parents, in particular, never went beyond 'Adam was born. Mother: Kate Milligan'. No matter how much other info she has on the kid, the pale girl has never looked into Adam's father.

"His father?" he buts in. And Kate blinks. Realizes what she said. And suddenly turns pale. _Bad topic?_

"Oh. That's, er, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it... I..."

Koryuu gives her his best 'I'm a doctor, you can trust me' smile, the kind he reserves for children with separation anxiety.

"Kate, you're under stress, I understand, maybe it'll help to talk about something other than Adam right now? Why don't we talk about his father."

If Jet was there, she'd shout 'bullshit' and laugh her head off. Koryuu keeps his doctor smile on.

Kate butters up. Hesitates for a moment. And then proceeds to tell the doctor all about the charming John Winchester, and how amazing and dashing he is, and a dozen other very flattering adjectives on his looks and his manner and his arms and his chest and a dozen other things that Koryuu would never ever want to know, much less hear about another man, except Kate's on a roll and she doesn't look like she's stopping any time soon. In fact, she seems as if she's forgotten Koryuu's there at all.

Koryuu decides he _really _needs to work on his set of Not Rude Excuses to Get the Hell Out of Here.

* * *

><p>His voice is hoarse, and he thinks he might have the sniffles. His nose is watery, probably from all the crying, and he wishes this was all a bad dream. The knife is still in his hands, clean now, mostly. He'd tried to rub the blood off, under the pillow where he couldn't see it. But he can imagine it's still there, black against the silver of the blade.<p>

The worst part is, he can't even muster up any guilt about it. He _hurt _Jet, hurt her, but all he can think about is how _wrong _she felt. And it isn't even her normal level of wrong – that was more subtle, just a slight feeling of not-quite-right like water lapping against Adam's skin, he'd gotten used to it after a while. This time Jet felt like she'd rolled around in wrong and had it for breakfast, like it was screaming at him, chaffing until all he could think about was getting _away_...

The knife remains in his hands. Jet gave him that knife, with the pouch. It's double-edged, the kind that slides open, and half of the blade is black – Iron, she said – and the other, the side that hit her, is silver. He'd asked her about it once, if it was real silver…

"_Of course it's real silver." She'd replied, looking affronted that he'd even think she'd get anything less than the real thing. "Solid, consecrated, silver. Other half's iron by the way, just so you know. And it was bloody hard to get when they'd rather hit me with it than sell."_

Adam had never asked who _they _were or why they'd rather get stab-happy with Jet. He wonders if he'll ever have the chance.

* * *

><p>Jet won't stop laughing. She's laughing so hard there are tears around the corners of her eyes and she has one hand on her stomach and the other on Koryuu's shoulder as he levels her a look that screams cold bloody murder and dumping of the body in the Des Moines afterwards. It's quite unfortunate that Jet's immune.<p>

"Tell me that again." She wheezes in between crippling guffaws. Koryuu hopes she'll run out of air and die of spontaneous asphyxiation.

Or he could do it himself. He has a belt. That should work...

"C'mon, c'mon, don't be a spoilsport! _Hahaha,_ tell me what happened!"

"Kate found me outside the room while you were playing detective, she invited me to lunch and we talke—"

"_Hahahahaha! _You totally got owned. Domestically owned._"_

"Did not."

"Did too! I'll bet she even showed you the baby pictures!"

At the look on Koryuu's face, Jet bursts into another round of laughter.

"Yeah. Yeah. You've had your fun. Now can you tell me why the hell was I stuck with Pining for John all afternoon?"

Jet cracks up again when she hears John's name. She'd found a very, _very_, uncomfortable Koryuu in the middle of a Kate Milligan gushing session, she almost took a picture, but Kate would've seen the flash. Alas, for missed pictures.

"Yeah. Okay. _Hahaha._ Yep, I'm good. Okay. Well, while you were playing house with Kate, _I _was looking into a set of very interesting disappearances."

Koryuu blinks. Then connects the dots.

"You think it might be a, a serial killer, or kidnapper…?" he ventures. Jet nods.

"Six disappearances so far, no police interference. They're all in different states and nobody's connected the dots. Yet. All children, male, same age as Adam, the MO is the same: kidnap the kid, set the house on fire, leave a note—"

"Note?"

"Not your regular ransom note either, just a nursery rhyme. The ladybird," and she shows the redhead a half-burnt note with the rhyme on it. "It's a note to the mother, I think. _Your house is on fire and your children all gone._ He's gotten the kid, burnt the house, it's like he's saying 'look what I did, mom'."

Koryuu snorts. "Seriously, Jet? _'look what I did, mom'_? You make it sound like they're showing off a finger painting. And what makes you think he's a he?"

"The previous cases." She answers, "He's fixating on the kids for a reason, male kids, kids left by their moms in the house. It's too ritualistic, like he's re-enacting a specific scenario. It's a he, or a mom with a serious head case – and the statistics of female serial killers are low enough without adding the mom factor into it – trust me, he's definitely a he. And he's trying to say something."

"But, wait, if we're thinking serial killer, then how do we know Adam isn't...?"

"The children turn up a week later. It goes like this, kid goes missing, then three days later, mom goes missing, then a few days after, you have mom and junior in nice little pieces." They both look at the sky, it's an ominous red. Sunset. "We've still got a day before he goes after Kate."

The doctor huffs. "Well, that's great, we just have to figure out who it is and where they're keeping Adam before tomorrow. Easy, of course, that's assuming he's even in the same county, not to mention the two-day head start he has on us. Peachy. Just peachy."

"Well, s'better than nothing, smartass. And besides, who says we have to find him before tomorrow?"

Koryuu freezes. Then looks at Jet like she's sprouted another head.

"**No**."

She levels him the kind of look that implies he's three and being unreasonable. "It's our best shot!"

"No! We're _not _using Kate Milligan as bait! Absolutely not! I can't believe you've even considered that – no, wait, I _can_. You're _you_. In any case, the answer is NO."

Silence. Koryuu glares and Jet stares stubbornly back. A wind picks up behind them, sending Jet's leather jacket billowing and Koryuu's red hair snapping against his face. They've hit a standstill, like they have many times before, both refusing to back down, both knowing with absolute certainty that they're _right_. They could've stood there forever, locked in a battle of wills…

And then the ice cream truck drives by. "_Bertie's ice cream is the best! Ta-na-na-na-na-na! all the kiddies can attest! Ta-na-na-na-na-na…"_

Silence. Jet blinks, then stares after the disappearing ice cream truck incredulously.

"Dude. That is the crappiest ice cream jingle I've _ever_ heard…"

* * *

><p><strong>Did that truck just steal our Moment? We were totally having a Moment. The truck totally stole our Moment! I ought to sue!<strong>

Jet? Jet! Dammit, how did you get out? Back in the Dark Place! Get back!

**But the truck stole our Moment.**

I don't care. I'm the writer, I get to do stuff like that. Now be a good OC and disappear back into my head, or computer, or wherever the hell Dark Place you come from when you're not pestering me with plot…

**(Grins widely)**

Oh shit.

**I'm FREE! (Crashes) (Maniacal Laughter) OH YEESSSS!**

OhmyfreakingCas. Badbadbadbadbad…

_Reviews will be used to coax Jet back into her Dark Place, where she can't hurt anyone. Most of the time._

_Or at the very least coax Koryuu out of There to stop her before she subjects Wanderlust to death-by-insanity…_


	8. True Colours

**My Brother's Keeper**

**By Wanderlust Ethereal**

**Summary: **Dean had angels, Sam had demons, but what if Adam wasn't a perfectly normal apple-pie life kind of boy, either? Adam-centric. OCs.

**A/N: **Erm... hi? I'm BAAAACKK! uh, PLEASE DONT KILL ME! MERCY! I REPENT! I'm trying to finish this, promise... Just, hit a very, very long snag. On the plus side, I'm almost done with the next chapters.

Oh, and **Warning**for gore, blood and verbal abuse. Oh. And face-peels. Enjoy the show^^

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight: True Colours <strong>

**(Part Four of Four)**

It takes a while for Adam to get his wits back together, but finally, he takes a deep shuddering breath, and sits up. He can't stay there forever, and he doesn't want to stick around to find out what Jet is up to, he has to get out of there. Fast.

The blonde takes out the pouch again, picking up the lock picks and working on his handcuffs. It's a bit tricky in the dark, but eventually, he manages, and a small click signals the cuffs springing open. Adam slips off the bed quickly, placing the lock picks back in the pouch and keeping his hand on the knife. He doesn't want to have to use it, but if Jet came back...

Adam gulps, hoping it won't come to that. He doesn't know what he'll do if he has to face Jet again.

* * *

><p>Koryuu does not agree with this plan. It's a terrible plan that leaves too much unaccounted for and puts innocent people like Kate Milligan in danger. He doesn't like it, and the feeling rolling around his gut is too much like guilt for his liking.<p>

"Thanks for staying with me like this."

He's snapped out of his reverie as Kate smiles at him and he tries to return it without making it look like a grimace. They're sitting at a bench at the park where Kate often drops Adam off.

With Koryuu's help, they've photocopied Adam's picture and set about posting it around town. He's only just managed to convince her to rest. Partially because she's exhausted, if the dark circles around her eyes are any indication, and partially because the day is slowly running out and Koryuu _does not _want to lose sight of her just in time for whoever took Adam to snatch her up too.

There's also the small matter that their moving around so much is making it hard for Jet to follow them discreetly, and while that does give him a certain amount of vindictive satisfaction. It's not gonna help anyone if the kidnapper comes while Jet's out of the area.

So Koryuu calls timeout and, reluctantly, tries to get Kate to talk about Adam, if only to distract her.

It works too well. To Koryuu's horror. He can swear he can hear Jet snickering.

* * *

><p>Jet actually is snickering. The uncomfortable look on Koryuu's face is priceless, but that isn't why she's here.<p>

The pale girl's mind is racing, something is missing, something that they have overlooked. _The note. _Supplies a random voice in her head. _Ice Cream. _Says another. The note has something to do with it, something important. Her mind replays the events of the last few days, from her meeting with Adam, to leaving him fast asleep in his room, then walking to the club. She remembers everything with frightening clarity – the sound of crickets, a warm breeze as she slips out through the window and flicks her fingers, locking it on the other side, the rustle of grass as she slips out, unseen.

_No. _She realizes. Not unseen! The time frame was too short. Someone had seen her there, had watched her leave and broke into the house right after. As soon as her back was turned... Jet bites her lip, thinking, _thinking. _Someone she might have seen – because Jet was hardly oblivious, she would have noticed something out of the ordinary, especially when she watched that particular house so closely.

But she _hadn't_. Everything had been in order. Right up to Mr. Gamble from next door, coming back late from work... Nothing out of the ordinary at all.

She blinks as the thought hits her. That was it!

It wasn't evidence that was telling, but the lack of it. A human wouldn't be able to do something so cleanly, wouldn't be able to fool Jet's senses so thoroughly. But... maybe, something supernatural...

Now, that narrowed things down. A creature capable of slipping in unseen. Ritualistic performance of a particular murder, almost to the point of obsession... Jet frowns, that narrows it down to a dozen, if she was being picky... but then. _The note! _Of course, what kind of supernatural creature would leave a note? It was too human a move. Something almost human, but not _quite..._

The dark-haired girl freezes. Eyes widening with realization. _Mr. Gamble! _That was it! The ice cream was the key! They didn't have to wait for the kidnapper anymore, and if Jet was right, and Jet was _always _right, Jet knew exactly where to find it.

* * *

><p>Koryuu frowns as his phone suddenly blasts Honor Society's <em>Here Comes Trouble<em>, which he most certainly did not have on his playlist before. And sighs as he catches Jet's name flashing on the screen. He shoots Kate an apologetic smile and moves as far as he can without removing Kate from his line of sight.

"What?" he growls into the phone. Jet had better not be calling just to needle him about how bored she was...

A slur of excited gibberish assaults his ears as Jet launches into a long, rambling, and faster than he thought the human tongue was capable of explanation, of which he understood little, apart from that she'd figured out something important.

"Slow down!" He grits out, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and praying for patience.

"_I know where he is_!" Squeals Jet, "_Get Kate Milligan somewhere safe, we don't need her anymore, give her some bullshit excuse or whatever. I'll text you the coordinates. Bring some silverware_!" And with that she disconnects the call with a click while Koryuu gapes at the phone and whips around just in time to see Jet shoot out of some nearby bushes, twigs in her hair, and race down the path whooping gleefully, even as people jumped out of her way in alarm.

* * *

><p>Kate looks up at the commotion and frowns at the swiftly disappearing girl, then shakes her head. <em>Kids these days...<em>

"Hey, uh… turns out I've got an emergency…" says Drake, looking sheepish as he puts the phone back in his pocket. Kate looks up at the redhead and smiles.

"It's okay, I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time." The doctor shakes his head and gestures towards the car.

"No, no, it's fine… listen, I'll just drop you off back at your house, alright?"

"Actually, I was thinking I'd just stay here and–"

"NO! I mean, no, we've… we've been all over town, you're probably tired and it's been a long day, I'm sure if anybody hears anything about Adam, you'll be the first to know? Right?"

"But…" Kate doesn't want to leave, but Drake_ does _have a point, there's nothing more they can do here. She smiles at him gratefully. "Yeah, yeah, I guess you're right…"

The ride back is filled with small talk and a sort of prickling tension, and Kate feels bad for imposing on the good doctor when he so obviously has somewhere else to be. Come to think of it, he really doesn't have any reason to be here helping her out, but it's nice all the same, having someone looking out for her, almost like… Kate shakes her head.

But when Drake disappears around the curb, the idea hits her with all the force of a bullet, and before Kate can think about it, she's already pressed the little green phone button and it rings and rings and just when Kate thinks she should just cancel the call because it was a bad idea anyway, someone picks up and a gruff voice sounds out.

"_Hello?_"

And Kate takes a deep, shuddering breath, and tells John Winchester everything.

* * *

><p>Adam blinks blearily at the sunlight, the sudden brightness almost blinding, but he stumbles out anyway. He has to get out of there, away, and hopefully back in town where he can find someone, anyone, that can help him.<p>

His shoes crunch against broken pavement and overgrown weeds, an abandoned factory looming up behind him, and Adam's heart sinks, because he has no idea where this is, or how to get out of here. And the panic comes out in short, too-fast breaths and he has to _calm down and figure out how to get home_. But it's too much, this is just all too much for one eleven year old boy, and then a twig snaps, somewhere in the forbidding mass of forest surrounding the area, and Adam doesn't _think_, he makes a run for it… straight into the factory.

The doors echo too loudly behind him, and dried leaves crunch under his feet, giving away his position and then he hears footsteps and Adam ducks down underneath some rusted up machinery and tries to hold his breath in and crosses his fingers that his heart doesn't give him away because each beat sounds in his ears like the drums on a marching band.

_Ba-Dum…_

_Ba-Dum…_

_Ba-Dum…_

The steps draw closer, and Adam gulps and shuts his eyes and wishes, not for the first time, that he was at home, with his mom, and this had never happened.

_Ba-Dum…_

"Adam?"

The boy flinches at the sound of Jet's voice, only barely holding back a sob.

"Adam, are you there? It's me, it's Jet."

Black boots stop in front of him and Adam tenses.

"Adam?" A pale face appears in his line of vision, brow furrowed in confusion, and then she grins, "Found you!"

And Adam freaks, and he's flailing and kicking and Jet stumbles back with a curse, and the blonde takes off, but the girl gets back on her feet and the resounding shouts for him to _stop_, _Adam, it's me_ echo through the corridors, but he can't stop because right now he doesn't even know anymore, and _he just wants to go home…_

"Adam!" the blonde skids to a stop, eyes wild as Jet steps out in front of him. Impossible, she was just…

"Adam!" Jet steps up cautiously behind him, "Adam, get away from her!"

"What?" says the other Jet, "No! Adam, get away from _her!_ I'm the real one!"

"No! You have to listen to me, she's a shapeshifter! She's not human!"

"I'm not a shapeshifter… okay, I'm not human either, but that's kind of beside the point, she's the shapeshifter!"

"No, you are!"

"No, you!"

"You!"

"You!"

"_Adam!"_ the shout in unison. "_She's lying! She's the impostor!"_

"Oh god, she's multiplied." Adam turns to stare at the red-haired man, who regards the scene with something between frustration and horror, "what happened?"

"Shapeshifter…" says one Jet.

"…been rolling around in an ice cream truck." Says another.

"…kidnapping kids, that's how they get around…"

"…remember the truck the other day? Bit fishy, don't you think?"

"…I mean, c'mon, an ice cream truck roaming around the playground when all the kids have gone home?"

"…picked it up on candid camera and traced it back here."

"…but it's shifted to me, that's how it got Adam."

"…Nice, though, real good choice. I mean…"

"…Oh yeah. Damn, girl, you're smokin'"

"…I know, right?"

Both Jets regard each other with a grin, and the man gives a frustrated sigh. Adam looks between the three of them in horror.

"I think I puked in my mouth a little." Says the man, with a small sound of disgust, "Well, whatever, one of you isn't real. And I'm gonna find out which."

And then one set of eyes flashes milky-white and makes a lunge for the other, Jet slips out of the way, grinning brightly.

"Ha! I knew I was the real one!" the man shoots her an odd look but she just skips happily and pulls Adam in his direction. "Get him out of here, I'll deal with this, don't worry, I know which one is me."

"You mean you weren't sure?"

"It gets confusing."

"God, you're such an idiot."

"Just get out of–" Jet cuts off as a dark blur smashes into her and they fall to the floor with a loud crash, Adam gives a shout of alarm, but the man pulls him out of the way, one hand drawing out a long silver knife, but his face looks uncertain. The two Jets grapple on the floor, neither of them getting the upper hand and the man looks between the two of them anxiously.

And then one kicks out and the other rolls out of the way, both getting to their feet and circling each other, warily. And then one of them grins and lunges for the man. The silver knife drops from his fingers, she snatches it up, drawing it to his neck. Adam steps back and Jet freezes.

"Well?" laughs the shapeshifter, pressing the blade to the red-head's neck. "Frozen? Thought so… Can't risk dear little Koryuu getting an owie, now can we?"

Adam looks up to stare at Jet, whose face drains of emotion quicker than water down a sink. And then she smiles.

"You really wanna play like that, honey? Because I don't lose."

The shapeshifter laughs. "Oh, you do, just too stubborn to admit it. You arrogant, narcissistic, little bitch. You'd sell them all out in a heartbeat if it got you what you want. And you, you want _this_."

Jet's smile gets pointed and Adam feels a shiver run down his spine, the air suddenly seems colder, more brittle. He steps back instinctively.

"It's a shame…" says Jet finally, "I'd hate to ruin that pretty face."

And then Koryuu grabs the impostors wrist, head snapping back and connecting with her nose with a crack, Jet lunges forward and Koryuu swings the fake Jet so that her face connects with the original's fist, but she jabs the knife at him and the man hisses as it connects with his forearm, blood spilling out, Jet grabs her by the lapels and pulls her away from the bleeding man, who stumbles back, and the two of them grapple with the knife and before Adam can think, there's a sickening squelch and both of them freeze. One of them falls down, blood seeping through her stomach, pale skin staining red, she makes shallow gasps, eyes wide and finally stops… dead.

"How…" starts Adam tentatively, stepping back. "how do we know it's the right one."

"Weeelll," says Jet with a laugh, shooting Koryuu a look. "I wouldn't die from a silver knife. Not _that_ silver knife, anyway."

Jet crouches down beside the dead girl, hand hovering over her face, and then _peels it off_. She throws the strip of skin away with disgust.

"I'm the real." She says finally.

Adam pukes at the corner.

He takes a step, two, and finally it all catches up to him and the world turns black.

* * *

><p>When Adam wakes up, he's in a hospital bed.<p>

Panic runs through him, remembering the handcuffs, the Jet that was not-Jet, the knife, the red-haired man – and then he remembers that it's over.

The blonde turns over and sees the white hospital ceiling, an IV drip by his side and beside him – _Mom! _She's fast asleep, her blonde locks spilling messily over the side of Adam's bed, and Adam's hugging her before he even thinks about it. Kate starts awake, and then there is crying, and hugs, and Adam is sniffling and _just so happy_...

And finally, Kate wipes the tears from her face, and uses a handkerchief on Adam's, and they're both laughing with relief, and there's a shadow on the doorway and Adam tenses, but Kate turns around and there's a smile on her face as she takes the man's hand and brings him closer to the bed. Adam racks his memory thinking if he's met him before, but the scruffy looking man in the beaten jacket doesn't ring any bells and then Kate looks flustered and takes a deep breath and tells him.

"I know this is sudden, Adam." She announces, "I'd like you to meet your father."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** OMG, I didn't know Adam was 12 when he first met John. Just found out from Supernatural Wiki. I'm two months early. Shit.


End file.
